


Loki - God of Truth

by Nightalp



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (I hate unhappy endings), Finding Love, Happy Ending, Insecure Loki, Loki makes amends, M/M, Mix of Norse Mythology and Marvel's Avenger's, and acceptance, being one of a kind in a very intolerant environment, mention of Loki's kids, truthful Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 10:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightalp/pseuds/Nightalp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there is one thing Loki is incapable of, it is lying.</p><p>But in an environment like Asgard that is more of a handicap than something to be proud of, not to mention that no-one believes him. So he finds companions, only to again and again be disappointed. Until one time he meets a dazzler that is much more truthful than he himself would like to admit and finds love in this most unlikely of all places ...</p><p> </p><p>This is Loki's POV to "Küssen kann man nicht alleine", but there is no need to read the other story to understand this fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loki - God of Truth

**Author's Note:**

> My grasp at Norse Mythologie is fragmentary at best, but from what I remember Loki's passed on speeches are always either truth or insult. So I wanted to write a story were Loki is uncapable of telling lies.  
> And since I like Frostiron ...

Loki, God of Truth

 

 

If there is one thing Loki cannot do, then it is _lie_.

 

He cannot remember the moment he encountered his first lie. He must have been a baby then, or a very small child, and it was probably one of that little lies parents often tell their children: _No, I didn’t promise that_ or maybe _If you do this, then I will do that._  
He remembers however the moment he first became _aware_ of lies. The moment he heard his brother tell everyone that he, Loki, had done something, when he knew for sure that he was innocent. It had been some trifle, and his father had only scolded him a little bit - was mostly angry only because he refused to confess -, but he sees, as if it has happened only yesterday, his younger self looking at his brother and not knowing what to think. Hears himself swearing that he had done nothing. Hears his father tell him to stop to lie - hears the way this word rings in his head: _Lie_.

It was his first encounter with this concept - he never ever before even thought about it - lying. It was so foreign to him as if from another star. It rang wrong, made him sick. His parents thought him ill from his unwillingness to confess and told him to stand to his misdeeds. His brother thought his betrayal was the reason and brought him sweet cakes to make amends. His nurse thought he just caught a fever due to the stress and banished everyone else from his room.

The truth was that Loki first encountered what later made him what they call the God of Lies: His unerringly sense of _Truth_ and _Lie_. It was like nothing he ever sensed before: _Truth_ , the truth he whispered to himself in his loneliness - _I’m innocent!_ \- was like the chime of a bell, clear and fresh and pure in his soul. But the _Lie_ \- _You did this_ \- he remembered was foul, was filthy, made him feel like he fell in dirt and never could remove it from his skin. He wanted to wash, wanted to scream, wanted to do whatever was possible to make it go away, but he _couldn’t_. He could not make them see this _lie_ , even though it was so painfully obvious to him.

He got better - his sickness went away - but he never was that innocent child again, living in a sweet, blessed, _honest_ world. Wherever he went after this day, his sense told him about the lies people told - told the world or told themselves.

It was horrible.

He didn’t believe what he felt, not at first. He didn’t even _know_ what he felt in this first few weeks, months, until he became stronger, lived through the pure agony that sense made his very life.

It took some years for him to truly become aware of the fact that he indeed was sensing lies - that others were truly unaware of the cacophony of different informations every single word, every breath inspired in his body. But when he became aware of that fact there was only one emotion that filled him:

 _Envy_.

Envy of their simple, unknowing lives. They were going through their days without knowing that their partner stopped loving them ages ago. Without knowing that their business partners despised them. Without even the simple notion that the one who made chaos in their salon wasn’t the dog they scolded but the child hiding behind the door.

Without knowing that there was indeed a difference between the little dark child and the strong golden one. That there was a difference in the way their father loved them. That they were never destined for greatness or honor but to be a pawn in the unknown game of others.

That their father never wanted them for the aesir throne even though he knew that they were the most suitable. That their mother wanted to spent time with them, but could never forget that you were a boy who wasn’t supposed to enjoy to do gardening or needlework. That their brother was ashamed of them for being small and needy, for wanting to spent time with him, even though there was true love in his heart for the dark boy.

He never cried for himself, not after the first few days, when everything was new, and after the day he became aware of his brothers twisted feelings for him. There was no rock he could build on, no anchor for his soul, and he would have to drift through this chaotic ocean for the rest of his life without hope for even the smallest mercy.

He spent his childhood struggling with the perception that _every single being_ around him seemed to live in a constant lie. It was no wonder that he turned to the animals of the court for companionship, seeing as they were incapable of lying. Even more: That they were _unaware_ of lies as well as truths made them the only silent beings, the only oasis in a world where everything was overwhelming, where even the pure joy of truth filled him up with feelings he couldn't comprehend, not as a child.

Eventually he learned to cope - learned to suppress the flinch when there was _lie_ in the same room as him, since there was _always_ a lie around him. Learned to keep his face expressionless when _truth_ filled him with an ecstasy he feared.

 

Around that time he was thrown together with his brother again. They were almost the same age - only a few dozen years separated them, nothing in the eyes of the immortal aesir - and they were supposed to learn the ways of the battle together.

Even at this age his brother was a flame moths flocked around easily, and so he drew friends with his charm like his brother seemed to repel them. Three were his most frequent companions, became his most trusted friends even over the next years: Fandral the dashing, Hogan the grim (though that was a joke at first, for he was often smiling in his childhood; he became, however, like the father he was named after when his mother died in childbed) and the always hungry Volstagg.

Loki hated them.

Not even really for what they _were_ \- they were good enough people, by aesir standard, and they weren't even lying more than the rest of them or being mean to him. But for the way they stole Thor from him he despised them. For only when Thors greeting became ever more hesitant, his eyes shadowed, his time short, Loki became aware of how much he still relayed on his brother, needed him, his only frail anchor in this untethered world.

And he did what he never dreamed of before: He _lied_.

It was something stupid - just the query if he wanted to come for the hunt (childproof, of course), expected to be turned down like every other query before. But this time he wanted to come - in a way, at least, since he wanted to spent time with his brother - and even though he knew that it would ring untrue in his ears for he hated killing for sport he braced himself for what was to come and answered _Yes_.

He could never have braced himself for what happened: The word tasted awfully in his mouth, coming up like acid, burning his tongue, scorching his lips. He could barely breath through the stench that filled his nose, could hardly keep himself together when his entire skin seemed to be ablaze, lightnings zapping over his body and filling his vision, making him sick in the stomach and wanting to vomit everything he had eaten that day.

He hold himself up - how, he never knew - and just smiled when Hogun - the most attentive of them - asked if he was okay, not daring another lie.

He stood on his feet, went on the hunt, and was grateful that after that - after he drew his very first blood - Thor just seemed to assume that he would come along and never asked again.

He learned to lie a little bit - learned that smiles given out of admiration could mean something entirely different to the one it was directed at. That some choice words at the right time could get him what he wanted, even though he never in the slightest lied.

 

It was a few years after he hit puberty, being awkward with his new length and still adjusting to his new deeper voice, when the Lady Sif came to the court.

Thor and his band never paid her much attention - at least not in any kind way - but he felt drawn to her immediately. She was like a pure tone in a concert played by amateurs, like a bright color in a pastel picture, like a flower in a rubbish heap. What made her abnormal for others just let his heart fly for she was true to what she wanted.

And so when she struggled with the sword teacher - kept up with the rest of the class, was even better then most, when he seemed to give her the worst time of them all - he stood to her, gave her his hand, his smile and his honest friendship. Sif accepted without question, as if it was her due, but he wasn't mad about that - for as long as she stayed honest he would bear with far worse. He may even have developed something akin to a crush at her, but seeing as he was still to young and to shy he wasn't sure and never acted on his feelings.

But again he was reminded of the true nature of the aesir: Intrigued by her stubbornness and Lokis equally stubborn support Thor came to know her more and eventually let her in his circle, made her a person to be reckoned with almost over night. And as Sif came to know him better her complains about his manner lessened, and her looks lingered on him longer. Loki loved watching her - loved how her eyes would light up when Thor was near, how she shuddered when he touched her, how she smiled about his unfunny jokes. And so he came to her one evening at meal time, sat beside her on the courtyard wall she had claimed for herself and just asked her, in so many words, when she would ask his brother for a date.

He never expected her reaction, for she spun around, furious and wild, and asked what had gotten into him for thinking she was as maidenly as these girls which only seemed to live for a look, a smile from Thor, and upon receiving it sighted and sometimes even fainted.

He stared at her, feeling as if kicked in his stomach less from her words and more from the sick _lie_ coming from her, for the first time comprehending that for her to live a warriors life meant to squash her female side, and that she wasn't any more truthful than any other aesir at all.

In that night he took her beautiful curly blond hair - for which warrior needed a mane as proud as that? - and gave her the black straight strands she deserved. No-one knew who did this, no-one except Sif, and she never forgave him for it.

 

After that he became the liar they had already tagged him as: He schemed with pure truth, never telling anything but, but also never telling the whole. He took advantage of the fact that no-one could lie to him and used what he knew to his own goals, manipulating them to believe him their friend and then letting them fall without a second thought. He went through lovers like a fire, and it was in this time he became known for his mischief: Snakes appearing were there weren't any and only to be seen by those that had angered him. Deer fleeing before the hoofs of the horses of those men that called him argr for being more slender then them and interested in more then just fighting (though it may have been that he picked up weaving only to annoy his father).

He also had this little escapade with that giants horse in this time: Upon seeing that the hand of Freya, one of the few more honest and friendly aesir, was promised to a giant and the girl becoming ever more frightened the nearer the time of fulfillment came, he changed his shape into that of a mare and took of, letting the giants stallion chase after him. When the horse reached him he changed back and, since he just loved to cause his parents even more trouble and being given a chance like that, he turned the stallion back into a foal and presented it to the court.

He never said it was his child, told only how he had led the stallion away, but the court of course drew it's own conclusions and he sometimes snickered to himself over these fools. As if he would ever let a stallion claim him - or, even more importantly, let his father ride his child.

But the way they reacted inspired him to do more - to take a wolf cup home and a really big snake, which his father decreed he send into the midgardian oceans (and the snake was as grateful and happy as a snake can possible be to be back home). What made him stop in the end was the little child he scooped up in Alfheim: She was barely old enough to not be called a toddler, and her body was twisted due to a unsanctioned union between a light elf and a dark one, probably some attempts to have an abortion also. So one half of her body was whole, beautiful even, with lilywhite skin and big grey eyes, and the other boar scorch marks and was burned black and red, making Loki wonder how she did survive this.

But she did, and she survived to the point when he found her, and after until he found himself caring for the child with the sunny nature and the monstrous hide. He knew she would lose her optimism when she became aware of the malicious nature of the aesir and chose to sent her away, to a realm whose inhabitants needed a wise and impartial ruler, and so Hela became queen of Helheim.

 

That didn't mean he never had any children of his own (and he certainly called Hela his child as well). Some years later another girl came to Asgard and captured his interest. Not like Sif had done - loud and prideful - but with a urge to search for deeper knowledge then is normally provided for aesir girls, and a way to find herself in the library.

He found her there one day, and when he met her again and again they began to speak and eventually they became something like friends - as much as you can become the friend of one you despise, and the feeling was mutually.

When her parents died and she was left alone in a strange place she suddenly had no place in anymore, and his parents tried to marry him off, he proposed to her a partnership, just something they would both benefit from. Something that would let him keep his freedom, and her her place in Asgard.

The wedding was a beautiful, if quiet, ceremony and everyone played their parts to perfection, Frigga even shedding some tears that her sweet little boy was now married. It was also mercifully short.

They have not much in common - they both search for knowledge, and they both despise the limits their birth brought upon them - but they managed to get along, mostly due to some simple rules they agreed upon before entering their partnership. Loki never had any problem with her regulations - he couldn't care less how she looked like naked and also never wanted to join her in bed - as long as she stuck to his - tell me whatever you want, but do never _lie_ to me.

Given the aesir nature he never expected her to be able to stand by that, but she did. He became ever more amazed over the years when she learned to tell sweet nothings or introduced him politically correct to newcomers without ever lying even once. And so happened what was long due and they did join in bed, consuming their marriage years to late, and even though they only did it sometimes there were two children born from their union.

Two children, two boys, which Loki loved with all his heart. They were sweet as babys, astonishing as toddlers, beautiful as youngsters. And even though they were as capable of lying as anyone else - something Loki was both grateful and disappointed for - they knew to never lie to him, even if it was only due to the fact that their father always saw through them.

So he had something of a family - a wife he always respected and even loved a little bit, for you can not stay with someone for so long and not learn to cherish them. He had two boys he absolutely adored and would do everything for. He had a daughter who loved him as much as he loved her, and who was the only who knew of his condition and believed him.

And still he couldn't be happy.

It wasn't that something was wrong, but more that there was something that he missed. He couldn't even put it in words, but whenever he had a moment for himself - a moment without the demands being a prince brought with it, without having to be a good husband, or without the distraction of being a father - he felt it - felt that he was still ungrounded, still floating in a world of nothing, and he feared.

Feared what would become of him, and what would become of the ones he held so dear.

 

Everyone had expected for the marriage to come to an end only months, maybe some years after their wedding, but when decades went by and they stood together, even produced first one, then a second son, these words ceased to exist. Until, one day, Loki caught them all by surprise and annulled the marriage, and Sigyn still stood beside him and just told the allfather that they had come to a point in their lives in which they weren't compatible anymore.

In private Loki did tell her - told her of _truth_ and _lie_ , and of not wanting to pull her down with him. And it did something for him that she refused to believe his fears - that she told him in no uncertain words that she believed him to be a generous and lovable being and that she didn't want to be separated from him. She did however gave in when he brought their children up, and that there was someone else he could ruin, something he couldn't stand to be responsible for.

Still, they stayed friends through everything life threw at them and after the disaster with Thor's coronation - and really, what should he have done? His brother as the king of Asgard was bound to be a catastrophe - and his own ascent to the throne she was the only one to believe in him aside from Frigga (who conveniently stayed next to Odin and was no help to him at all). And even though he found that he did not dare to tell her of his true origins for he could not bear his only friend to walk away he had to admit that talking back to that strange girl in the library was the best thing he ever had done.

Then came what had to come - the fall he feared for so many years, and wasn't it just fitting that he really tumbled into the abyss like he had himself felt doing from the moment his brother first accused him of something, oh so many centuries back?

As he fell through the void he had a lot of time to think - after the initial shock and fear and realization that he wasn't dying, of course - and he came to some conclusions. That this sense he had had driven him insane in a way, and that being among people for him never would be without pain, even if they were the most genuine people in all the worlds. And also that being lied to constantly - and about something so important as his own true nature, making him in turn lie to himself, even if he was unaware of doing so - had only made it worse. And so he used the time to learn about himself, learn about what it meant that he was a jotun.

He couldn't know everything, or even close to it, for even though he was probably the most learnt in the whole of Asgard he had never gone to Jotunheim to ask these questions he now so desperately needed answers to. But he could turn into his other, his jotun form, and learn that the lines on it that the aesir found so typically only came out when he was especially aggravated. That his skin didn't have to be so cold as to burn warmblooded limbs and only did so when he ordered it to. That it was really difficult to form ice blades between the realms, where there was nothing.

Of course, then it all took a turn for the worse and he met Thanos.

He never lingered on this thoughts, because with it came memories of humiliations and unbearable pain, burning everything from his mind that wasn't the feeling of betrayal that had filled him upon uncovering his true origins - and a second time upon learning that a mortal wretch had managed what he hadn't in all these long years and made his brother see his true self, made him come to his senses. Made him better.

What came after isn't something he's especially proud of. He's still - even after all of Thor's attempts and the many wars and battles he's seen - not a violent person and bringing war to an entire realm is something he still can't comprehend. So he is mostly grateful for the green beast - the doctor, as he is later informed, and isn't that interesting? - to smash him into the floor and so clear his head up.

He let himself be brought back to Asgard - hilarious that Thor and the Allfather think that they can hold him with such simple bonds, even if they bind his magic - and stood during his trial when they debated how best to punish him. He even made a suggestion and almost toppled over when it was accepted - the Asgardian court isn't what he would call a sentient institution. And so he came back to Midgard, with his powers bound in a way that lets him only access them to help and build, but that's okay, for he really ought to make amends.

 

Not that that is easy; the Avengers are aware of him being here, and even though he does not despise them he has no inclination to become familiar with them.

And so he hides in the shadows, takes on work for the day to survive and then uses his magic in the night, to make the city a little bit saver and the lives of the good people a little bit better, killing this mugger and rescuing that man from rape. He also really needs to overcome his instinctive reflex to rescue every little tramp that crosses his way or he will have to found a new animal home as well, seeing as there are already three cats, a dog, two parrots, a guinea pig, a snake (he really likes her; she reminds him of the snake he abducted and declared to be his son in his youth), two alligators and a nest of small bats calling his flat their home (and maybe it wasn't nice of him to convince his landlord that the flat he is residing in is his and he doesn't has to pay rent, but then the man is rich enough and Loki wouldn't know were to keep all the animals otherwise).

So during the day he is working in a little bistro and on Saturdays in the library (he gets to lend out everything he wants without having to pay for it, and isn't that splendid?) and sometimes he helps the little lady in the cafe across the street on Sunday when her current social problem child is running away and she has to wait for the next to come around. He likes her, but there is also to consider that she's giving him cakes for free if he's helping her and that sounds more like the dark self he wants to adopt.

Currently her employees are all behaving and so he spends his free Sundays reading in Central Park.

It is one of these Mondays that always seem to follow such bright lazy Sundays when he is sitting in the bistro, just reading by the window after his day of work, that he is encountered by a customer. He looks up surprised; no-one seems to bother with the young man at the corner table, and those few customers with other interests have learned long ago not to bother him.

But the man putting a dish of Rachel's sauerkraut and sausages (the only dish she will ever excel in cooking) and a coffee cup on his table is no unknown customer but the one and only Tony Stark.

He's staring for a moment, every encounter with this man running behind his eyes.

He has seen him first in his suit, in Stuttgart, and he always felt something different, something cool and soothing around him. He could not place it that time, nor the next, though this puzzle may have been a reason for speaking with Stark when he met him in the Stark-Tower-Penthouse.

But still ... he cannot begin to decipher what it is that he feels, and being captured by his memories makes him being caught by surprise by Stark's newest foolish move: He bends down and lays a kiss on Loki's lips.

It's nothing really, just a touching of skin to skin, but it sends a jolt through Loki's entire being. He cannot place it, not at first, and so he just touches his lips, inhales the scent the human left there.

And then it hits him. What he is feeling here with that man, what he is tasting on his lips is nothing else but _truth_. He never had this feeling so strong before, or so strange. Like being used to apples and suddenly biting in pears, but he is sure that this is, indeed, _truth_. And he cannot hold himself back, to delicious, to addicting is this taste, and so he bends over, captures the lips of Stark in a kiss of his own and kisses him correctly, the way a kiss is meant to be.

And to his surprise Stark welcomes him. He welcomes him in a way he could never hope for, has never experienced before, like the man is thirsting and he is water, like a starving man seeing a buffet. There is nothing restraint about the man, his entire mind is focused on this little task of exploring Loki's mouth.

And it is this that Loki so haunts - there is nothing in this man that does _not_ want to kiss him. Even though he is an enemy (or was, at least), even though they do not know each other, there is nothing holding him back, nothing _making_ him hold back.

Nothing _untrue_.

When Stark pulls back there is still want in him, and it is only to draw breath which for a Midgardian he did hold astonishing long.

Only now, separated from him, from that lovely, wonderful taste, he can hear the calls of the customers - some cheering, others (mostly those he refused to bed) growling - and the whistle of his colleagues. He feels like he should be embarrassed - he's always restrained, never lets others see his emotions - but he can't. This wonderful taste is still in his mouth, filling his mind, and even though Stark isn't saying anything he can hear the chimes, can see lightnings which only ever fly before his eyes when there is _truth_ be said in his immediate surrounding.

He is almost blinded by this experience, but he still feels how Stark takes his hand, how he pulls him away. And he lets him, lets himself be pulled, for he would follow this taste everywhere.

They spent the evening having sex before the mortal falls asleep against his side - having taken hold of him before, only letting himself sleep when he sees Loki relaxing against him. Loki can't help but wonder what's going on in this mortal's head - he is the iron man, the playboy, the one who's strong enough to stand by himself. And yet ... this feeling here displayed feels honest, and the way Stark is acting makes him realize that it can't have been the first time for him to act this way.

“A contradiction.”, he whispers down to the mortal's deaf ear - down to _his_ mortal's deaf ear - and he feels a smile tug on his lips. Yes, possession. The mortal is still unaware of it, but now that Loki found him he will not let him slip away.

He settles down beside Stark, feels his breath becoming even as well as his heartbeat, and falls asleep.

The next morning Stark is a bundle of nerves, seemingly embarrassed for the way he acted yesterday - and still not regretting it, still not able to keep his eyes away from Loki - and burying himself into his work. He just follows - he won't have to go to work until midday and he just decides to call ill - and observes as the mortal scrambles over to his work shop, programming, being rude to callers, talking a little bit more restraint to that woman of his - though he remembers hearing something about them breaking up - and drinking to much.

Around three in the afternoon it is to much for Loki, so he just orders pizza for the two of them, grabs the bottle from Stark’s hands and feeds him the slices bit by bit.

Stark is spitting poison on him - and that is a true emotion; he does not like being fed - and still opens his mouth every time he comes near, even melds a little bit into him every time - and that is _true as well_ ; Stark likes to be cared for.

He cannot get enough from this mortal who is so true in the expression of his emotions. He has lived with politicians trying to hide them for his entire life, but Stark does not seem to own such a switch to hold back any gesture, any word that fills his mind. He is so open, and vulnerable, and all the more beautiful for it, and he will be Loki's.

He learns more about him over the next weeks - learns the facts the internet gives him, and also the facts that Jarvis lets him in on. And then he learns _Tony_. Learns how he smiles, what _makes_ him smile. What makes him angry, what sad, what happy. Learns that there is nothing he desires more in his life than to be left alone and tinker away in his work shop, or to do the entire opposite thing, to go out in the world and mingle with the people, let himself be worshipped as a hero or admired as a playboy.

He learns that Tony’s _truth_ is what comes from the way he grew up: He is a shy boy, or was at least, and he never got enough love from the mother who only used him to marry his father, or from that father who never could express his love for Tony, if he ever felt any. But this still boy had to act for the camera, had to smile and wave and give his hand, and he only could do that in creating a second self, a surer one who does love to go out and laugh and be selfish. But that doesn't disturb Loki: There is no person out there which has only one facet, one face, and if there would be this person wouldn't be interesting at all. And the socialite in Tony is just another facet of him, has become true over the years of his existence so much that to deny him for Tony would mean to deny a ground part of himself.

And he loves the way that Tony lives every side of himself: The selfish playboy, throwing money around and flirting with everything having a heartbeat. The shy boy who does not know how to tell his true feelings aside from sometimes awkward gestures, bringing flowers home and telling terrible jokes. The engineer, buried in his work, head in the clouds and forming the world after his visions like a god creating the universe.

He loves every single thing about Tony. He loves the way his lips curl whenever he thinks to much. The way his eyes go wide when the orgasm hits him. His ridiculous lifestyle, eating to seldom and sleeping even less whenever he's full of a project, then falling into their bed and waking after a twelve hour’s sleep with a hunger to shame an aesir after battle. There is a birthmark on his lower back shaped like a star. His laugh is full hearted and open. He smiles when Loki is near, his eyes light up when he sees him. He does not make fun of Loki when he cooks and then feeds him (sometimes strapping him on a chair to prevent him from running back to his work), merely jests that he's going to have to buy a bigger size since Loki just cooks too good. He build a new Iron Man suit, and he added a little bit of green - of _Loki's_ Green - to the paint. He likes Tony's shower gel, and Tony lets him bury his nose in his neck, where the fragrance is spiked with Tony's own scent. He loves that Tony is going to parties and let's him accompany him sometimes, let's Loki be the one to manipulate the guests and satisfies himself with the role of a decorative arm piece. He smiles at Loki's mischief, but stops him from really hurting someone. Sometimes he's seized by an idea and then Loki is being dragged around the world in a plane for a bit of the best dish on earth. Whenever the other Avenger are around, and Loki gets uneasy by there familiarity with Tony, he just smiles at Loki's possessive stance, wraps his arm around him and presses a kiss to Lokis neck.

He loves that he can flirt with Tony at a party, then accompany him home and make love to the shy boy he is with his loved ones, only to wake up to the genius tapping away on his pad, creating the future he sees in his head and making it real.

Sometimes Loki sits still on the couch, or on the table in the work shop, or just beside him in their bed, and he just watches Tony. He knows what he looks like - there has never been a moment he didn't knew it, not since he first met him outside his armor - but he can never get enough of looking at him. At his curly brown hair, trying to go wild and being tamed whenever they just seem to succeed. His brown eyes, open and honest, smiling, concentrated, spark spraying angry, deep, dark and full of desire. The goldbrown skin, so healthy and sunny looking beside Loki's own pale complexion, like the sun against the moon, warm and soft and smelling so delicious, decorated by his trademark work stains. His scent - Tony is Tony, will ever be, a note like good reliable earth, but the oil he's working with wrote itself into his scent, and there is his shower gel, and his after shave, and the deodorant and sometimes perfume he's using. The way he is sitting or standing like he is owning a place, even though he just arrived there.

There is nothing about Tony that Loki does not like. Nothing he would change, if he could.  
Tony is perfect, exactly as he is, and he will always be. Honest and beautiful, mind and body alike.  
And he is Loki's, which is the most perfect about it, and no-one is going to change that. Not if Loki has anything to say about it.

For Loki is the God of Lies, the only God of Asgard who will always tell the truth, the one who can hear the _truth_ of everything. And when Tony smiles and looks at him, a light blush coloring his cheeks, or sometimes not when he is so sweaty and exhausted from their lovemaking that he cannot draw the energy to be embarrassed, and then he says, his voice still or loud or barely a whisper: "I love you.", there is a bell chiming in his head, loud and joyful, and the flashes fill him with an energy he never felt before, and a wave rolls through him, a wave of pure ecstasy. And he knows that he has found the one being that has been born for him, the one being _he_ has been born for, and whatever it was that he missed with Sigyn - it wasn't love, that much he is sure of, but he still does not know what it was - he knows that it is here now, and it does't matter that he cannot put a name to it.

For he is Loki, God of Truth, and he is more happy then he ever was and more content than he ever could hope for.

  
(He will also not allow time to take his mortal from him, but that is another story.)


End file.
